


Insult and Injury

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [39]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip inadvertently insults some aliens, and they want to punish him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insult and Injury

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            "Sir, it's Commander Tucker," Hoshi announced, turning slightly in her chair.

            "Have they taken off already?" Archer asked, somewhat surprised.

            "No, he's calling from the surface." She frowned a little. "He says he wants to speak with you privately."

            Archer tried to keep his expression steady. That couldn't be good. "I'll take it in my Ready Room, then." Moments later. "Archer to Tucker. Are you alright, Trip?"

            His friend squirmed uncomfortably on the small screen. " _Yeah, I'm okay, Captain_ —"

            "Is Mal alright?"

            A distorted face loomed into view, too close to the transmitter. " _I'm right here, Captain! Can you hear me? Can you see me?_ "

            Trip shoved him aside. " _He's okay. Um, the thing is_ —" He rubbed the back of his neck the way he did when he was embarrassed about something.

            "Trip," Archer said warningly. "What have you done?"

            " _I think I offended the Wajlins_ ," Trip admitted. " _The Director is sayin' stuff about how I can't leave the planet until I've been punished, and I think he wants to talk to you personally, lodge a complaint_ —"

            "Trip."

            " _I swear, Captain, it was a total misunderstanding on my part!_ "

            "What did you do?" Trip told him, and Archer sighed. He hit the comm button. "Hoshi, get me the Director of the planet. Put it through here."

 

            "Honest, sir, I don't think you shoulda agreed to come down here, I'm gettin' mighty untrusting of these folks," Trip insisted, pacing the conference room they'd been left in.

            "The Director seemed… amenable to my explanation," Archer countered hopefully. "Maybe after a face to face talk, we can clear this matter up and get back to the ship."

            "I don't like these people," Mal opined, from the corner he had curled up in. "They want to _punish_ Trip."

            "You just sit tight there, buddy, okay?" Trip advised him. "The Captain's gonna get us out of this, don't worry." He turned to Archer and lowered his voice. "I'm a little worried about Mal."

            "Why?"

            "He hasn't been eatin' too good," Trip whispered, glancing back at Mal nervously. "Which usually means, something's eating _him_. What if the Wajlins look at me funny and he goes all psycho on them?"

            Jon stared at Trip in exasperation. "Well if he does, _I'm_ sure as h—l not going to get in his way!" he hissed back. "I thought you were going to _work_ with him on that!"

            "Well I've been _busy_ ," Trip snapped under his breath. Mal looked up suddenly and Trip smiled and nodded at him. "Couldn't we just transport out of here?"

            "And lose two shuttlepods, and the goodwill of one of the largest fleets in this sector?" Archer shook his head. "We're going to try the _diplomatic_ way out first. And second. And third."

            At that moment the door to the conference room opened. Both officers put on their most _diplomatic_ faces as the Director and his guards swept into the room.

            "Captain Archer," the man greeted.

            "Director." Archer pressed forward immediately. "I'm pleased you agreed to meet with me in person, I know how busy your schedule must be."

            "It is," the Director affirmed. "However, I believe the Council and I have already reached a compromise that will satisfy both of us."

            "How is it a 'compromise' if we haven't even heard it yet?" Trip asked suspiciously.

            Archer nudged him. "And what is this plan, Director?"

            "Normally we would require one year's imprisonment in a labor camp for an offense of this nature," the Director explained to them, and both officers' eyes widened. "However, given that you are first-time visitors to our world, and that there is some discrepancy over the clarity of instructions given—"

            "I'll say," Trip muttered. Archer kicked his ankle.

            "—we are willing to reduce the punishment greatly."

            "And what would it be reduced down _to_?" Archer probed.

            "Fifty lashes in a public setting, to be administered by my captain of the guard," the Director revealed, in a generous tone of voice. "And then you will all be free to go."

            Archer and Trip stared at him. "Fifty lashes?" Trip repeated with disbelief. "You mean, with a… _whip_ or something?"

            "Precisely," the Director agreed. He took a coiled object from one of his guards and handed it to Archer for inspection. "You can see for yourselves, it will not cause permanent injury. If you are worried about scarring, our medical technology can prevent that, and will be made freely available afterwards."

            "I'm kinda more worried about the _pain_ at the _time_ ," Trip choked out.

            Archer set the whip aside, so he wouldn't be tempted to use it himself. "Your offer _is_ very generous," he told the Director. "But our culture does not believe in corporal punishments."

            The Director blinked at him. "Well, ours does," he replied simply. "And as the offense was committed on _our_ planet, against _our_ people—"

            "Perhaps, Director," Archer interrupted smoothly, "you would understand my officer's confusion better if you visited our vessel and saw—"

            "I have no intention of visiting your vessel, Captain," the Director cut in coolly. "There was much debate involved in the reduction of the punishment to this form. It will be painful, yes, but only temporarily." He cocked his head to the side and looked at Archer curiously. "Surely, Captain, you did not expect that you could sail into our system, land on our planet, abuse our cultural norms, and then sail away again, without consequence?"

            "If your cultural norms have been abused," Archer began, and Trip got a real sinking feeling in his stomach, because the Captain was getting rather stiff now, "it was unintentional on my officer's part. And I _expect_ that, as reasonable men, we can resolve this issue through diplomatic means. Not punishments."

            "Perhaps Commander Tucker could personally apologize to the entire service staff of the guest house, as well as its manager?" the Director suggested in a _very_ sarcastic tone of voice. "And then perhaps you could gift us with some useless but shiny objects you have lying around your ship?" Trip winced a little at his words. "No, Captain, I'm afraid that we are not impressed by your warp five space vessel or your mission of 'peace and exploration' or your 'amusing' cultural misunderstandings. An offense has been committed. The offense must be punished." He looked to Trip. "If Commander Tucker is displeased with the punishment offered, I'm sure a more severe one can be arranged."

            Trip weighed his options quickly. There weren't all that many. He turned back to Archer reluctantly. "Well, Captain, I guess, if that's all they—"

            "No," Archer told him. "You're not doing it."

            "I agree," Mal stated, appearing at Trip's side with a dangerous look in his eyes.

            "Your refusal is noted," the Director responded. "In that case, I have little choice but to keep Commander Tucker in custody until a place at an appropriate corrections facility can be arranged."

            He signaled his guards to move in on Trip, and that was the fatal move. Mal lashed out, punching the first guard full in the face, then the second one hard in the mid-section. A whack to the side of the head while the man was doubled over sent him tumbling to the ground, just in time for Mal to fling the first guard across the room. The third and fourth guards, who had been waiting just outside the doorway, ended up sprawled across the floor, unconscious. Before he could summon additional help the Director found himself bent over the conference table, pinned down by one hand on his throat.

            "I hope," Mal growled, "you're impressed by _me_." The Director gurgled in response.

            "Let him up, Mal," Archer ordered.

            "He still wants to hurt Trip," Mal pointed out, eyes not leaving the Director's face. "I can't allow that to happen."

            "What the h—l is your _plan_?!" Trip demanded of the dark-haired man. "Are you gonna kill everyone between here and the launch pad?!"

            "If necessary."

            "We'll take him with us," Archer decided, quickly checking up and down the hallway.

            "What? We're takin' _hostages_ now?" Trip shook his head. "Come on, Captain, I'll take the fifty lashes and get it over with!"

            "I think it's gonna be a lot more than fifty lashes _now_ , Trip," Archer pointed out. "Come on, the hall's clear. The launch pad is only twenty meters or so away."

            "Mal!" Trip instructed. "Let him up, but hold onto him. We're goin' this way."

            "I wouldn't wiggle if I were you," Mal snarled at the Director. "I don't like wiggling things."

            "He's serious about that, by the way," Trip advised. "Hey, sorry about your guards and all, hope they aren't hurt too bad."

            "Trip! Come on!" ordered Archer.

 

            A few hours later, Archer, T'Pol, and the Director emerged from a conference room on _Enterprise_ , looking significantly more chummy than when they went in. Of course with T'Pol that was a relative measure. Trip scrambled to his feet, having been waiting anxiously outside the door for some time, and tucked the remainder of the grapes he'd been tossing to Mal into his pocket.

            "Um… well?" was all Trip could think to ask. He slapped Mal's hand away as the other man began to fish for his snack.

            Archer smiled. "After seeing the facilities aboard _Enterprise_ , the Director is completely convinced of your good intentions, Trip."

            "Yes, yes, absolutely," the Director seconded, glancing warily at Mal. "An honest mistake, Commander Tucker. We shall definitely make our instructions clearer in the future."

            "So… no fifty lashes or labor camps or anything?" Trip confirmed.

            "No, no, no," the Director agreed. "We would just be pleased if you and the crew of _Enterprise_ would continue with your journey. I'm sure you have a long way to go."

            "Well, do you want me to apologize to the staff of the guest house?" Trip offered. "I mean, seems like I oughtta do that, at least—"

            "No!" the Director said, a bit more firmly than he'd intended, as he watched Mal nibble on the grapes he'd retrieved. "That won't be necessary, Commander. I shall pass on your apologies to them. If you wouldn't mind, Captain…?"

            "Of course." Archer tried not to grin too much at his success. "My First Officer will see you to the Launch Bay." T'Pol gave Trip a dark look before leading the Director away.

           "And Trip?" Archer added, the smile fading to a stern expression, "the next time you're in an alien environment, _ask_ where the toilet is first. Don't just assume."

           "Yes, sir," Trip agreed sheepishly.


End file.
